


Snapshots

by ink31



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mobtale, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underlust, F/M, lamia sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink31/pseuds/ink31
Summary: A collection of oneshots and drabbles that may (or may not) grow into their own separate works.Sans didn't touch you but then he didn't have to. You could feel his presence acutely and whenever you turned your head you caught sight of him. Once, he had his head flung back and mouth open in an apparent moment of filthy joy as a hand fondled a rib.





	1. Chased Out

**Author's Note:**

> My answer to my tight schedule with little time to write long chapters.
> 
> As always, please enjoy.

The skeleton was back.

 

She peered at him from her spot between the two leaning bookshelves. Like the last time he hadn't bothered doing the semi-hospitable thing and break down the already broken door. No. He simply appeared by the front desk in a barely perceptible scent of ozone and hiss of static. This time around she only jumped and hit her head against a shelf. Last time she had screamed. The local culture in this place might have considered his form of trespass rude for it's lack of property damage. Not that he seemed like he would have cared.

 

The first time they had met she had been hiding in the shadows of an alley, using the contents of a trash can to hide her smell. The pack of dogs that had been trailing her ever since she had left the Ruins seemed to depend entirely on smell. She had hated the way the mustard had felt in her hair but she knew she would have hated being ripped limb from limb even more.

 

“You keep stayin' 'ere dollface and you'll be frozen solid.” The skeleton growled out. His voice echoed in the building, pulling her out of her dismal thoughts. He meandered around the main floor slowly as if curious.

 

Toriel might have been teetering on the edge of madness but in her more coherent phases she had provided sound advice. She had been right in saying that the Ruins, for all their traps, was a kinder place than the rest of the Underground. At least there she was relatively left alone for fear of angering the mentally unstable caretaker. Beyond the door she didn't have Toriel to protect her. The Ruins might have been a sad, twisted fairy tale but out here it was a nightmare.

 

“I'm fine.” she said, proud she didn't stutter. She hunched her shoulders deeper into the coat Toriel had given her and scooted further back.

 

With a lazy flick of his wrist he created a small glowing blue bone. She flinched violently and then flushed as he laughed at her reaction. Casually flicking the bone around his hand he turned to stare at her. He was six feet of large bones, shark-like teeth, and a glowing red eyes. A nightmare in a land of monsters. He began to flip the tiny bone as though it were a coin. “Rumor has it you went to the inn.” his smile widened. “Got chased out.”

 

“Does it matter to you?”

 

“The hag can suck my sacrum for all I care dollface.” he said. “But...you seem like the type to play by the rules.” The way he let the words roll seemed almost indecent. “Got me curious why you'd do something like that.”

 

 _I wanted my things._ People here understood selfishness. _They are all I have left._ Talking about your inadequacies was a weakness. _I wanted the picture of my family._ Would family ties get her anything here?

 

There were so many things she could have said but didn't. Instead she just reached out with one hand and pulled her purse into her lap. The strap was cut through from the struggle she had had with the innkeeper. Those glowing red lights in his sockets sharpened and the bones around his face moved as if he were narrowing his eyes at her. The shadows of the building further twisted the lines and curves of his skull and mandible. The lone gold tooth glinted at her as he smiled.

 

“Ah. Why didn't ya dust 'er?”

 

Dust. Down here Dust wasn't the same as dust. There were so many things she didn't understand but she at least understood that much. “Didn't want to.” she said aloud, watching as he began walking a larger circuit around the common area.

 

“Really?” his grin twisted knowingly and he quirked a brow(bone?) at her. The truth was in the bruises around her face, the scratches on her arms, the angry pain in her ribs.

 

 _But I'm alive!_ She thought. It was a hollow victory because at the end of it she had simply survived the beating of a grouchy bipedal rabbit. A monster with fangs and too-many piercings but a rabbit nonetheless. The only real reason she had gotten out of there with all her limbs intact had been dumb luck.

 

And the rabbit's own laziness in not chasing her further.

 

When she didn't say anything he huffed another laugh and tossed the bone even higher into the air. Her eyes followed it so she didn't see he had vanished until it clattered to the ground where he had been.

 

Her world shifted in a clatter of broken wood and moldy books as everything began to glow a violent red. A lead weight in her chest left her unable to move even as the bookshelves were tossed aside, dust (not Dust) rose up. She cried out when her body rose up and she felt her stomach flip as though she were on a carnival ride.

 

“Okay...”

 

She was turned around and found herself inches from the skeleton's face. “ **Now** I'm getting interested in you human.”

 


	2. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another average day of a hot dog (hot cat, he's out of hot dogs) vendor. Rriiight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...guess who's done with medical coding? :) In about two weeks I'll know if I passed the certification board but for the moment I'm simply going to relax and attack the mountain of fanfiction. Thank goodness for the bookmark feature on AO3! 
> 
> AU: Mobtale
> 
> As always enjoy!

The day began, as always, with coffee.

 

More water than coffee but that wasn't the point. The point was that it was hot and at least smelled like the real thing. Never mind that the grounds it had been brewed from might not be the freshest. Sans whistled between his teeth as he poured the coffee carefully into two cracked mugs. Papyrus had refused to let him use the good china. A quick check into the cart showed that the hot cats were still hot, his lunch (2 ketchup bottles) still cold, and his dented money box still empty from his recent purchases. Screwing the lid to the thermos back on he stuffed it under the cart and then opened the umbrella with a quick surge of magic.

 

He didn't let himself dwell on the money box and instead sat back on his rickety stool and waited, carefully watching the empty predawn street.

 

He wasn't kept waiting long.

 

The Ebbott city police were happily regular enough to set a clock to. _Especially_ the night shift. New York City, Chicago, San Francisco. They had nothing on Ebbott with it's integrated population of humans and monsters (highest ratio in the world). Humans at some point had to sleep and usually did so at night but monsters had only just been on the surface for seven years and kept to far more flexible schedules. And with the force still completely staffed by humans, it meant that those stuck on night duty had to adapt in some interesting ways to keep sane.

 

Ebbott was perhaps the only city where it's unsolved murders occurred during the day. Night shift police would happily ignore a speakeasy's grand opening and go after the muggers across the street. And if those muggers arrived at the station missing a few teeth then it was obviously due to their own stupidity and had nothing to do with the police. By far the most notable way night shift kept sane however was an affliction of selective blindness when it concerned written laws and the Law.

 

Sargent Hendell Armstrong had this selective blindness down to an art form and was currently grooming this talent into his partner, a young Watson Keller. Sans had met Keller a few times now and so far thought he had the makings of a career in the night shift. The two made their way to Sans' cart with purpose and Sans had to struggle not to grin. Keller a half step behind Armstrong's slouching form and both men clearly tired and annoyed by the long night.

 

“Sans. You numbskull you're up early.” Armstrong said. His nose looked oddly crooked and his uniform was missing several buttons. The sight made Sans already feel better about the empty money box.

 

“Or on time.” Sans said and tapped one of the mugs with a phalanges. The sound drew the man's beady eyes and he quickened his steps.

 

“Thank all the saints.” Armstrong reached out and Sans handed him the mug before doing the same for Keller. The young man was sporting the makings of an impressive black eye and a split lip but still smiled at Sans. Sans liked Keller. His smiles were more crooked these days since working night shifts but they still reached the man's eyes and they never held any mean spirit towards him or any other monster.

 

“Now there's a shiner for a copper.” Sans said and then leaned back as those appraising the two men carefully. “Had an interesting night playing with the dogs again?”

 

“Let me get in a sip before you interrogate me. I've already got one wife.” Armstrong said and sighed as he began to drink. It always impressed Sans with how the Sargent could drink hot coffee the way some men guzzled cold beer. Sometimes he even wondered if a bit of magic wasn't rubbing off on the man to imbue him with some kind of protection from the scalding liquid. His partner was taking a more cautious approach but then that also could have been due to the split lip.

 

“Interrogate? Me? I'd never strong arm an Armstrong.” Sans said when the two humans were finishing their coffee. Reaching below he took out the thermos and shook it. Both of them held out their mugs and Sans refilled. When he put back the thermos he pulled out his purchases.

 

“It's too early for your puns.” Armstrong said but his lips had nonetheless twisted up. It was an old pun between the two of them and it acted as a reminder of sorts. _I'm harmless. A grinning, short skeleton monster. And the one who always has your_ _ **free**_ _coffee._

 

“You and Paps never appreciate word play. But then after playing with dogs I imagine you don't want to do _any_ playing around do you?”

 

“I'm not going to ask where you heard that bullshit.” Armstrong said. “Especially since I hear your license is coming up.”

 

Sans held up the brown bag and enjoyed the way both humans stiffened. “Yes, complete and utter bullshit when the two of you are simply enjoying a cup of coffee and assuring a monster vendor that his license has been approved for another year.” He turned the bag around to reveal the painted logo of a spider and then pulled out a single spider doughnut. It was still warm.

 

With his free hand, Armstrong pulled out a crumpled envelope that had a few smudges of red on one corner. Keller's newly learned selective blindness showed itself in how carefully he had eyes only for the doughnut.

 

Sans waited until Armstrong had opened the envelope enough for him to see the dates and 'approved' stamp on his renewal application. It was only when Armstrong had put it on the cart that Sans handed him the doughnut and then pulled out a second doughnut and passed it over to Keller. It always paid to include the next generation after all. Armstrong wouldn't always be in the force.

 

“I imagine that the monster vendor will enjoy his new place in Dob Park. Good for business and close to his friends.” Armstrong mused.

 

“A great opportunity. ” Sans murmured. He watched as the man's nose reduced in size and with a wet noise, straightened. Armstrong winced but kept eating. Keller's lip had healed and the black eye now only looked as if he were just tired. Sans pulled out the other two doughnuts and winked at Armstrong's surprised face. “And it's nice to be near friends should they find themselves patrolling around his new spot.”

 

The two humans left Sans with only wrinkled clothes and a few crumbs that were easily brushed away and the promise to see Sans at his new location the following day. Sans glanced over his license and then tucked it safely into his money box before slouching in his stool and waited. There were a few customers coming out of the factories on their way home but for the most part he simply sold bags of warmed peanuts. Just before noon however he noticed a small white dog sniffing around the cart. A few minutes went by before Sans pulled the last of his morning purchases out.

 

The home made dog treats were no longer warm but the dog didn't seem to care from the way it's tail was wagging furiously. “Tell GD thanks.” Sans said, winking and the dog gave a sharp yip and winked back before taking the bag treats into it's mouth and running off.

 

Yes, he might not have made much today but it looked like his long term investments were already paying off in spades.

 


	3. Slither

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really it shouldn't surprise you anymore. Monsters as a species made it a mission to ignore all the basic principles of physics and biology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:...don't know if I will ever continue with this but I've been wanting to do something with lamia!Sans ever since I saw it emerge from the Undertale fandom. Also wanted to simply write something since 'Grow With Me' is giving me a few hiccups. I'm actually debating whether to simply rewrite the whole thing...anyways though...please enjoy!
> 
> AU: Lamia...tale? *shrugs*

You found the monster curled up on your lounge chair.

 

Having grown up your entire life within fifty miles of Mt Ebbott meant not only were you used to monsters but also their magic. Rocks would complain if you pushed them without asking. Flowers were liable to talk a person's ear off on a sunny day. It was considered polite to ask the bug if it _really_ was just a bug before killing it. And the laws of physics weren't ignored so much as bent into animal balloon shapes but never broken. It took a special kind of human to live in such a land and your family had done so for several generations quite successfully.

 

You had to wonder if this monster was fate's way of testing your meddle.

 

The upper half of the monster was familiar enough to you. Skeletons might not be common but you had seen a few before downtown. Clothed in a white shirt and blue hoodie, you could only see it's skull and bit of it's collar bone but in the afternoon sun the bones shimmered faintly. And while you had little anatomical training, it was clear the monster's skeletal features were unlike any human's. You were certain that humans _didn't_ have bony eye lids. Nor did human sockets look like bottomless voids but then again it made sense on some instinctive level. How else would those tiny little lights acting as it's pupils look so expressively lazy?

 

“hey.” The monster said and rolled in the chair, drawing attention to the real reason for your shock. It's lower half was that of a snake's. Well, a snake's if the snake was bright blue, and could easily eat a cow and then ask for seconds. The (because that monster biology class at the community college finally proved useful) ecto-flesh shimmered and rippled but you could faintly see the outlines of individual vertebrae and even ribs.

 

You couldn't help but be mildly impressed at how much of those coils were on the lounge chair. One good sneeze and the poor chair looked like it would collapse under the weight.

 

A glance at the nearby table showed that in the small amount of time you had gone inside to get your lemonade the monster had helped himself to your dinner.

 

“You know you just ate my dinner.” you said. “And you're in my chair.” Your parents would be so proud at how staunchly you refused to buckle under the pressure of 'normal' reactions. No screaming, running, jumping, or even throwing random objects. True your heart fluttered quickly but that could be excused on account of youth. A great family story was when Grandpa Billy had only told the three ton sea monster that had appeared in his pool not to do belly flops. Never mind that they were over two hundred miles from the nearest coastline.

 

“i know.” you watched as several coils spilled out of the lounge chair, stretching as they did so. “you cook good hot dogs.” the monster said. Finally, the monster lifted it's upper half up. At this angle you were still taller but only just.

 

“Thanks...?”

 

For a time, the two of you simply eyed each other. You with trepidation and he with an increasingly amused and lazy expression that he somehow formed with only bone and the narrowing of his eyelights. The standoff was broken however when he flicked out a long forked blue, (because of course it was blue) tongue. You jumped and his entire demeanor changed to victory. He slithered closer until you were nose to nasal cavity and his tongue flicked out again, this time tapping your nose. You flinched at the sensation.

 

"i like you."

 

“SANS! SANS! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LAZYBONES?”

 

The cry came from the balcony below your own. If you hadn't already been staring at him you would have missed his wince.

 

“Sans?” you asked and the monster gave a shrug.

 

“yup. Sans the Skeleton.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sudden, loud screech. Both of you turned and saw a skeleton monster hanging off your railing and glaring at Sans.

 

“SANS WHY ARE YOU OUTSIDE? IT'S STILL TOO COLD!”

 

“sun felt good, couldn't give it the cold shoulder Pap.” 'Pap' ground his teeth together. “YOU ARE DESTROYING LANGUAGE WITH EVERY PUN. WHATEVER WILL OUR NEIGHBORS SAY?”

 

“that we're pretty punny guys to have around?” The resulting groan made Sans' grin turned impish. Despite the original first impression you had of his large teeth you could distinguish that he did in fact have what looked like truly impressive fangs. It sent a primitive little shiver running from your hind brain down you spinal cord.

 

“OH IT'S ONE OUR NEIGHBORS. FORGIVE US FOR THE PUNS. I KEEP TELLING ALPHYS PUNS SHOULD BE CONSIDERED A DISORDER BUT SHE DISAGREES WITH MY EXPERT OPINION.” the skeleton said. Without a care in the world he then swung himself up and over the railing to land on your now suddenly crowded balcony. He had to have been almost eight feet tall and it was a miracle that he hadn't hit his head on the overhang.

 

“GREETINGS HUMAN I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” Somehow the bright red scarf around his neck fluttered despite the lack of a breeze.

 

You relaxed. This was downright normal in comparison to Sans. True his very nature could possibly make biologists cry but still, he made sense. Smiling, you introduced yourself and Papyrus looked giddy at the exchange, clapping his gloved hands (they matched his scarf) together.

 

“I WOULD OFFER YOU A CUP OF SPAGHETTI AS A GREETING BETWEEN NEIGHBORS BUT I'M UNPREPARED AT THE MOMENT.” He narrowed his sockets accusingly at Sans who looked completely unaffected. If anything, he looked quite happy by the taller skeleton's presence.

 

“That's alright.” you said. "It's nice to meet you both." Well that was a bit of a stretch given you were still annoyed by Sans eating your dinner.

 

“WELL I MUST ASK THAT YOU COME OVER FOR A BONDING MEAL OF SPAGHETTI THEN. TONIGHT!”

 

“sounds like a fun time. how 'bout it pal?” Hidden by the energy of Papyrus, Sans had taken advantage of the distraction and somehow was coiled around you, his chin ever so slightly resting on a shoulder.

 

“SANS THAT IS NOT HOW WE TREAT NEIGHBORS.”

 

“she's warm.” Sans mumbled and there was a hiss of his scales as he shifted closer.

 

“AND THAT IS WHY IT'S TOO COLD FOR YOU TO COME OUT. PLEASE EXCUSE HIM FOR NOT ONLY HIS PUNS BUT LACK OF PERSONAL SPACE. YOU SHOULD AT LEAST BECOME FRIENDS FIRST BEFORE SNUGGLES SANS.”

 

 _Flick. Flick._ Went a tongue by your ear. You squeaked. “That's alright!” you said and restrained jumping.

 

“so you coming over for spaghetti then? You need something to eat after all.” _Flick. Flick._  

 

Papyrus had somehow destroyed the principles of skulls being scary because the hopeful expression he had twisted at your heart and emotions.

 

“I don't have...to work today...if you don't mind.”

 

 


	4. Thin Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first you had thought your apartment was so cheap due to it being a studio. You had been braced for outrageous prices closer to the downtown area of the city but you had stumbled upon this building with it's cheerful landlord (a blue rabbit monster). It had seemed perfect, a space just big enough for you and your things with no roommates, and only two blocks away from work. One month into your twelve month lease and you understood that nothing helped rent prices better then cheap building materials. You wouldn't have minded it so much if the neighbor sharing your bedroom wall wasn't so _enthusiastic_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one I really wanted to get out there. Please enjoy.  
> AU: Underlust

They were at it again.

 

 _Well that isn't true._ You thought and sat up in bed irritably. _**He's**_ _at it again._  'They' implied that it was the same two people when it clearly a new person. There was a growl and then the second person-a woman this time-responded with a frenzied high pitched mantra of positive reinforcement that was clearly discernible through the thin walls of your bedroom. Something crashed into the wall but that failed to stop either participant.

 

At first you had thought your apartment was so cheap due to it being a studio. You had been braced for outrageous prices closer to the downtown area of the city but you had stumbled upon this building with it's cheerful landlord (a blue rabbit monster). It had seemed perfect, a space just big enough for you and your things with no roommates, and only two blocks away from work. One month into your twelve month lease and you understood that nothing helped rent prices better then cheap building materials. You wouldn't have minded it so much if the neighbor sharing your bedroom wall wasn't so _enthusiastic_.

 

He—because you weren't being biased if you heard him—routinely seemed to bring in new partner(s) ever week or so. You supposed that had you both not shared a bedroom wall you might have even been impressed with his stamina. Triathletes could learn a thing or two from him.

 

The woman screamed and then gave a low, throaty moan that had you blushing. Laughter from both parties and you held your breath when they grew quiet. _Perhaps..._

 

A steady thud of a headboard dashed away all hope. 

 

 _At least I have an evening shift._ You thought and rolled out of bed with the intention of binge-watching Dr Who.

 

~*~

 

 

Thursday was laundry day since you had off but apparently most of the other residents in the building didn't. This usually meant an hour or so of just you and the rumble of the machines as they worked on your clothes and bed sheets. Usually.

 

“Hey, you got a quarter?”

 

You knew that voice. Granted, you knew it from muffled moans, growls, and expletives but you knew it. Looking up from your book you stared up at your neighbor.

 

 _He'd gives new meaning to the word 'boner'._ The thought bubbled up before you could stop yourself. It made you start to giggle before biting your lip. Your neighbor smiled but then again that was probably because he had no choice since his face was a literal skull. “Sorry.” You said and lifted your book for him to see the title. 

 

The diversion apparently worked because as his eyelights scanned the title and his expression lightened. “Heh. Is it as good as the title?” he asked and reached out a hand. You let him take it, and he read the back. From the way he looked you figured Jim Butcher would soon have another convert.

 

“Better.” you told him confidently.

 

“My bro would say it's a match made in heaven if he saw me reading this.” He rumbled and then without preamble sat down on the floor in front of you, laundry back thumping by his side while he read. It was better and it was worse because for one thing you didn't have to crane your neck to see him. But that also meant he was closer. Much closer. He was dressed like most monsters were dressed which meant that the clothing didn't cover so much as it _advertised_. There was no hiding that he was a skeleton with his ribs and sternum on full display thanks to the sleeveless vest. The fur trim looked soft and inviting and your fingers twitched despite yourself.

 

“Wanna take a picture?”

 

You froze and saw the way he was looking at you over the book, smirking. When he met your eyes he winked and you realized that his eyelights were heart shaped. They were also faintly pink which made some tiny nine-year-old part of you gasp in delight.

 

“Your vest.” you pointed.

 

He lost that smirk and looked as though you had said twenty pigs were going to fly around his head. “My...vest?”

 

“Is it real fur? It looks really soft.” you continued.

 

“Yup. Got it from a friend. Completely consensual.” Back came the smirk and somehow the way he caressed your book with the tips of his phalanges made you think it was the dirtiest thing you had ever seen. Dirtier then that one video your brother had tricked you into watching back in high school.

 

Desperately you started digging in your pocket and pulled out several coins. “Just a quarter you needed, right? My name's ___ by the way.”

 

“...Sans.” there was a rustle and suddenly you had the vest flopped over your head. You smelled pine, a dusty smell that reminded you of a used book store, and some rich, sharp tang that reminded you of that moment just before a thunderstorm. It was also surprisingly warm as if he weren't a walking skeleton and you pulled it off quickly much to his obvious amusement as he laughed. Your fingers brushed over the fur trimming though and you stopped before you threw it back.

 

 

~*~

 

 

You lent him the book.

 

He gave it back with an advertisement for monster/human friendly lube acting as a book marker. You had a feeling he was a regular customer given how happy his partner of the week had sounded. A happy side effect of the book was that the first night you had given the book there hadn't been a single suspicious creak or moan from his side of the wall. Your coworkers had even commented on how well rested you looked.

 

You offered to lend him another book in the series when he returned it the next week at the apartment's laundromat.

 

“There's more?” he asked eagerly.

 

You grinned. “I've got every book in the series so far. Just call me your enabler.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Got an idea? A prompt or simply an AU you'd like to see? Throw it my way via my tumblr. Bonus point go to the first one to get the title of the book right. :) 
> 
> https://inkblots31.tumblr.com/


	5. Thin Walls: Setting The Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans didn't touch you but then he didn't have to. You could feel his presence acutely and whenever you turned your head you caught sight of him. Once, he had his head flung back and mouth open in an apparent moment of filthy joy as a hand fondled a rib.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire premise is really starting to intrigue me. I'm even debating whether or not to take it and give it's own separate work. Please let me know if this would be of interest if it were expanded upon.  
> AU: Underlust

So _Dead Beat_ was a win.

 

Not that you were surprised but then again it took all sorts to make a world. So out there perhaps (hopefully far away from you) there were people who actually disliked the book. These were probably also the same people who hated the entire idea of being 'happy'.

 

But Sans liked _Dead Beat_ so you lent him _Proven Guilty_ that same day. This provided you with nearly three days of blissful quiet. You were feeling almost spoiled by Sunday night when he apparently decided to make up for lost time with several like-minded individuals. At first it had seemed like he was simply putting on a show for an extremely appreciative audience but then it escalated. You spent the rest of the night desperately fighting the urge to google the logistics of an orgy that involved what sounded like a giant buzzing insect. A giant buzzing insect whose name was “Whi-Whi- _Whitney!_ ” from the way you had heard someone cry out.

 

Not that that was the only reason you were curious about what was going on. Sans was a skeleton. A walking, talking skeleton with a sense of humor that bordered between cheesy puns and blush-inducing innuendos. And while he clearly wasn't an exact copy of a human skeleton (even with your basic knowledge on anatomy his bones were heavier and his hands seemed to have malleable bone to acts as his palm) there were still enough similarities to startle anyone. But you had never heard anything... _negative_...from any of his nightly frolics. His partners—monster and human—seemed to reach a higher plane of existence while in his company.

 

And if you were completely honest with yourself you could also admit that you were a bit jealous.

 

Sex had never been interesting to you. Or rather, the few 'dates' you had ever been on had never sparked anything. Friends and family would talk on and on about the wonders of falling in love (or lust) but for you there had been nothing. If anything, the idea of being intimate with another always made you uncomfortable. Those few you had dated had never totally understood and it had finally been easier breaking things off. By the time you had moved into the apartment it had been at least a year since your last attempt at a date.

 

Thursday rolled around again and your thoughts had settled enough that when you saw him already in the laundry room you didn't blush. He was lounging on top of one of the dryers, eye sockets somehow closed. When he heard you stepping inside he opened them and then frowned before lifting the book up.

 

“The White Council are a bunch of assholes.” he said in way of greeting.

 

“You didn't get that from _Dead Beat_?” you replied and listened to him vent while you sorted through your dirty laundry. A tiny part of you took sadistic pleasure in dropping hints to any of his questions.

 

The fourth time you said in a sing-song tone, “Maybe, maybe not.” was a breaking point.

 

Sans slid down the dryer. When you turned to look at him he shot you a down right shit-eating grin. Pulling out his phone he tapped it a few times until the beginning notes of a saxophone came through the speakers. He then proceeded to strip-tease right behind you. He made pulling off _one_ of his fingerless gloves into a sultry act the likes of which Jessica Rabbit would be jealous of. It was when he then proceeded to lick his own fingers with a long, flexible tongue that you whirled away. The image of that glowing lavender tongue all but making love to his own phalanges was seared into your brain.

 

Sans didn't touch you but then he didn't have to. You could feel his presence acutely and whenever you turned your head you caught sight of him. Once, he had his head flung back and mouth open in an apparent moment of filthy joy as a hand fondled a rib. Memories of voices begging Sans not to tease them bubbled up. Your neck, face, and ears felt hot and you wanted to crawl under one of the washers and never come out.

 

But you didn't because after the vest incident of the week before you were prepared. You dropped your laundry and pulled your own phone out (all while trying not to notice how extremely limber and graceful he looked) to play THE sound-clip. And it warranted the capital letters.

 

It went better then expected as the sound of a loud, drawn out wet fart had him pause in mid-hip gyration and he stared at you in shock, then absolute wonder. You had the satisfaction then of watching the monster revert to the maturity of a fourth-grader when he laughed, laughed, and then fell to his knees and laughed some more. Lavender colored liquid-tears-pooled at the corner of his eye sockets and he was holding in his non-existent gut. By the time you had started your first load of laundry he had calmed down enough to speak while his phone had gone silent.

 

“Thought my performance _stank_ kid?” he asked.

 

“I was just adding _wind_ accompaniment.” you said. His smile widened, appreciating the comment before the glow in his eyelights faded suddenly.

 

“Seriously though don't let me _foul_ up your air. I'm pretty good at knowing when I'm wanted but verbalization both in and out of the bedroom is always a plus.”

 

 _So I've heard._ It was so close, so tantalizing to say but you held back the words and actually  _listened_ to what he was saying. When the monsters had first emerged there had been a number of incidents that made celebrity sex scandals seem downright prudish. Those first few months had been full of mock-horrified news casters warning parents of the sights they were about to see could be considered inappropriate. Monsters had learned quickly however and the incidents had lessened. Just last year their government had even launched the still highly successful 'no means yes only when the safe word isn't no' campaign. There was even talk that some of the Ivy-league colleges were going to use the same campaign as a basis for their own campaigns of consent.

 

Sans didn't want this to be another incident that would make yet another human flinch away. And thin walls aside, you didn't either.

 

“I grew up with two older brothers.” you said and sat down on the floor across from him. He copied you, his legs outstretched. He looked relieved and you got the impression that he was purposefully letting you see that. In the next moment he was smiling again, chuckling even.

 

“Heh. Sounds like they did their job then.” he said. You quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Are you an older brother?”

 

He raised a single finger. “Of just one. Papyrus. He's super cool but he never appreciated classic jokes so I have to help him out even now.”

 

“He has my sympathies then.” you said seriously and he chuckled. For the rest of your time in the room the two of you had an all out nerd-fest that jumped from Jim Butcher to NASA to the necessity of punning at least once a day. And while Sans didn't stop his suggestive comments (the one about NASA needing to send a probe to Uranus was actually quite good though your ears burned) he never pushed. He did however offer you his vest again; his hands stroking his sternum as he did so.

 

You got back at him by giving him _Fool Moon_. It would do him good to read the first book.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr! 
> 
> https://inkblots31.tumblr.com/
> 
> Anything new will be posted up there including developing chapters for 'Grow With Me' and 'Don't Fear The Reaper'. Throw me a prompt even. :)


End file.
